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- 1816
- KEEN FITFUL GUSTS ARE WHISP'RING HERE AND THERE
- by John Keats
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- Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there
- Among the bushes half leafless, and dry;
- The stars look very cold about the sky,
- And I have many miles on foot to fare.
- Yet feel I little of the cool bleak air,
- Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily,
- Or of those silver lamps that burn on high,
- Or of the distance from home's pleasant lair:
- For I am brimfull of the friendliness
- That in a little cottage I have found;
- Of fair-hair'd Milton's eloquent distress,
- And all his love for gentle Lycid drown'd;
- Of lovely Laura in her light green dress,
- And faithful Petrarch gloriously crown'd.
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- THE END
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